A/N: Better years late than ever, I always say. A short chapter to get the ball rolling.

Disclaimer: All things associated with Dragon Ball Z belong solely to Akira Toriyama.

Something in the Water

illumination

Something clicked in his brain. "Date...?" he muttered, cocking his head. "Isn't that what you and the weakling used to engage in?"

"Mmmmaybe..." she drawled, her glossy lips curving into a smirk to challenge his.

Vegeta frowned, easing himself from the doorway towards the dainty table overflowing with steaming food, fruits, and sweets. "What does this 'date' constitute?"

Lilac dress rustling as she clasped her hands, Bulma jumped in front of him with a doe-eyed countenance. "All you have to do is eat and talk with me!"

"Talk? When do we get to fuck?" he crooned, his teeth glinting off the light of the setting sun as he slid one arm around her waist and folded her to his chest.

"That is not how a first date goes, Vegeta!" she yelped with a smack of her hand on his chest. "If you want to - get anything else out of this - you have to treat me like a human being and talk to me!"

"I am treating you like a human being."

Bulma pressed her lips together and extricated herself from his arms to avoid giggling and ignored his comment. "I mean, don't you think this is all rather odd? This whole getting-together thing that we're doing and not doing all at the same time? And that it's happened in a matter of weeks?" She stood straight and trained her eyes on him with a tilt of her head.

Vegeta avoided her gaze and instead scanned the surroundings as he lithely moved towards the table. "Everything you do is odd to me," he replied, his voice devoid of the usual scorn. "Moreover, I have no idea what you're blithering on about. Where is the meat?"

Frowning as her grin slid away, Bulma retreated wordlessly into the house to retrieve the simmering platter stacked with ribs. Upon her return she dropped it in front of him as he sat, rattling the glasses as his eyes slid up to meet hers. "Be straight with me, Vegeta," she snapped and leaned in over him. "Is it that you really think we're not in a relationship, or is it that you have trouble understanding human terms?"

With that she could see his eyes darken, and something simmer behind them. His teeth gleamed as his lips curled back. "Are you questioning my intelligence, Bulma?"

Something about her name on his tongue sent a pang of warning in her stomach, and with reluctance she sighed and moved away from him, plopping herself into the chair across and pulling her glass of wine closer. "No..." she replied haltingly, staring into her glass as she swirled it. "I think I mean that quite literally. I'm wondering if our terms for things don't match up with your Saiyan terms. Like, 'date.' Do you know what that is? Or love?"

At this she lifted her gaze to meet his. Vegeta felt unsettled. So often their interactions made him feel as though he was stepping into a long-laid trap...

"I know what those terms are," he replied begrudgingly, and then resumed piling food onto his own platter.

Bulma felt her eyes tighten. "Are there similar words for them in your language?"

At this Vegeta let out a sharp grunt, something between a cackle and a cough. "No, idiot. Why would we? Only a race as weak as yours would spend time developing a system revolving around something as insipid as 'love.'" He tore into a rib, grinning maliciously over the meat at her.

Her ears burned as irritation boiled in her stomach. "Seriously Vegeta?" she exclaimed, louder than she intended.

Grabbing a towel and dragging it over his mouth, he again avoided her gaze. The Prince of All Saiyans knew when someone was trying to drag information out of him and was more than reluctant to acquiesce. Beatings were easier to endure that a serious female who happened to control both his training material and his ability to fuck. "Why would you doubt that? What would 'love' serve a warrior race?"

Bulma noted that the word 'love' rolled off his tongue in the same manner that a child might say 'calculus.' "Well it seems to serve Goku pretty freaking well," she pouted. "He hasn't lost yet!"

His glare and growl smashed into her plane of view. "Sorry-" she said hastily, leaning forward and placing her hand on his knee beneath the table. "I just meant... He's Saiyan and it doesn't seem to slow him down. What's so wrong with it?"

"Your human love," he spat, swatting her hand away, "Is tenuous at best. Do you think your precious Kakarot loves his harpy of a female? Do you think that's why he comes to your puny planet's aid?"

"Uh... yes?" she replied dubiously, even as the beginning of a smile touched her lips. He was such a drama queen. And obtuse.

"No," he continued as his voice dropped low. "What you call 'love,' what you and that idiot fool used to murmur to each other in bed at night, flees at the mere sign of trouble. What Kakarot feels is not the 'love' that you identify with." His eyes bored into hers now, lips curling down again. "No matter what way he fell onto his oversized head, he is of a mighty heritage that burns through his veins. He protects what is his and conquers what few things challenge him and clings to that which he knows and owns. His mate and progeny are his to rule, and his alone. It is loyalty and honor, not your petty love, that drives him. Your interactions with the Fool have made it quite clear what love is."

She wasn't sure that she had ever heard the prince speak so passionately for so long, and for a moment no words came to her. Vegeta seemed to measure her reaction before he resumed inhaling.

Was that how he viewed her and her world? Idiots running around pretending to feel things for fun and never owning up to it? She watched him toss the wine down his throat, grimace, and throw the glass over his shoulder. What must it have been like to come into her world without any of the same experiences and find a race like hers? What did he think of her and the way she viewed men, considering Yamcha?

Bulma stayed quiet, and Vegeta went on consuming, rather unperturbed. "Well," she said at last, "This is not exactly how I imagined our first date to go."

Vegeta snorted. "And how long have you been imagining such a thing?"

"Oh you know. Since, like... Yesterday." And with that, she smiled a slow smile that spread to her eyes. "You are not anything I expected to have in my life."

Vegeta slowed his chewing as he relaxed, and felt like something was knocking on the door to his mind. As he finished he grabbed the bottle of wine and chugged till that too was gone, and then looked over to her still-empty plate. "Aren't you going to eat?"

"Nah," she shrugged. "Watching you just takes the impulse right out of me."

His nose wrinkled as he eyed her figure. "Well you should fucking eat before you turn into a pile of bones."

Bulma's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Are you just saying that, or do you really think I'm too thin?"

Wiping his mouth again with the towel, he grumbled, "There is nothing wrong with more meat on your bones. It is a sign of a healthy female." He eyed her again and said even more softly, "Though I have no complaints thus far."

A dazzling smile lit up her face, and she leaned towards him on her elbows. "That, my Prince, is the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Vegeta looked up at her with a sour frown.

She laughed, leaned back, and downed her own glass of wine. "Now that's what I call a date!"

After cleaning up the dinner, nibbling on a peach, and sipping another glass of wine, Bulma returned outside to find Vegeta basking in the fading light of the planet. Five moons floated above them, one taking up a fourth of the sky and settling itself on the horizon above the lake, casting a lovely pink glow over the water. The Saiyan himself lounged at the water's edge, one leg sprawled over the grass and the other propped up, one arm hanging at his knee.

"You know," she began as she curled up next to him, her sleeve barely brushing his arm, "I don't think I said what I meant to earlier. I mean, I think we really do have different terms for what we're doing - what men and women do."

"Fuck," he grunted, still looking over the water. "That's pretty simple."

"Nooo..." she said doggedly, "I think you need to tell me what it means to be 'mated,' because humans don't have that term and it seems pretty important to you."

Vegeta pursed his lips. "I do not understand your need to talk so much."

"Honey... that's a woman thing. Get used to it."

He grimaced. "Your mate is one with whom you share your ki. The only one." He looked over at her and saw no derision in her face, just placid interest. "Though, I was never instructed past that. I suppose one could share ki with multiple people, but that would be an extreme disadvantage to both partners and a danger to one's welfare."

Bulma thought he almost seemed to be speaking to himself. "Is that a Royalty thing, or a Saiyan thing?"

"Both," he replied, looking back to the moon, "Though perhaps a necessity to ensure royal lineage. That is not to say that we do not engage in rutting without other partners, but that typically results in death for the female."

Bulma felt a pit of despair blossom in her belly. "You mean... even after you mate, you still..."

"...Fuck other women?" he finished for her, a cruel smirk twisting on one side of his mouth. "That would depend upon the bonds between the mate, and the strength of the female, since she herself would not be open to rutting because of its danger to her life."

"The bonds?..."

"The loyalty created between them," he corrected, turning to meet her eyes again. "You as a human might be stupid enough to label it as love, though that would be a grave misinterpretation."

She tilted her head, attempting to smile through his callousness. "And what about attraction?" she asked softly, lifting a finger to stroke it down his arm and up over his knee. "Where does that come in with your particular brand of... loyalty?"

Vegeta was silent in reply, and again he felt that sensation of something pushing in towards his consciousness. "That," he finally replied shortly, "Is the extent of my knowledge of mating."

Bulma grinned now and scooted in closer to him. She could feel his mild irritation at her intrusion, but chose to ignore it as she leaned her cheek against his shoulder. "Would you like me to tell you about the human version of mating?"

She took his silence as a reply.

"We don't do anything that involves blood... and it's not nearly so much fun as your version," she chuckled, "But we have a ceremony where we express our decision to be only with that one person the rest of our lives, and then we spend the rest of our days honoring that commitment." Bulma looked up at his stoic face. "That's what marriage is."

Vegeta nodded, his mouth tightening. "I remember..." he said finally, "A ceremony of sorts on Vegetasai for the declaration of our mates. Only royalty did such a thing, if for the purpose of marking someone as theirs. But... that is only a vague memory."

She suddenly felt like crying. "I've never heard you really talk about your home," she whispered, though not meaning to be as quiet.

"There is no sense in talking of things long forgotten."

"Clearly they haven't been... forgotten," she replied softly, and at this Vegeta stared down at her.

"I am all that is left," he stated simply with the barest hint of a shrug.

She nodded, unable to reply.

The moon rose higher in the sky, glowing above the motionless couple on the shore.